


Like Real People Do

by crimsonkitty



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Holding Hands, M/M, More feelings than expected, Pre-Series, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 10:11:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonkitty/pseuds/crimsonkitty
Summary: He doesn’t mean to. Honestly. He’d only wanted to borrow Allison’s silver jacket, the one with the buckle.But when he enters Allison’s room without knocking, Luther is there with her. His blonde head ducked low as they talk, their hands laced together against her pink bedspread.





	Like Real People Do

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about writing this pretty much since I started watching the show. I picture them to be about 12/13 in this? Post Five disappearing, anyway. It was originally supposed to be a hundred word drabble but then I caught feelings and so here we are. No beta (though thanks to Sarah for catching a spelling mistake or two) so if you see anything wrong, that's my bad. Title is from the Hozier song of the same name which is incidentally a great Klaus song.

He doesn’t mean to. Honestly. He’d only wanted to borrow Allison’s silver jacket, the one with the buckle. 

But when he enters Allison’s room without knocking, Luther is there with her. His blonde head ducked low as they talk, their hands laced together against her pink bedspread. 

“Oh,” is all Klaus says. 

Their heads snap up like frightened birds, hands and bodies flying apart.

“Klaus!” _Oh_. Luther sounds mad. 

“Sorry, sorry!” he finds himself yelling. Because he doesn't know what's happening here, but he's really sorry for interrupting it. For putting those looks on their faces.

He slams the door closed just as Luther stands up. Nanoseconds later, a tennis ball leaves a perfectly sized hole through the wood and lodges itself in the wall a foot from Klaus’ head. A remnant of Allison’s tennis phase last year. 

"Oops." That chagrined voice is all Klaus hears before he takes off running. He refuses to be the one getting in trouble this time, even if he's the one who didn't knock. Let perfect Luther be the scapegoat for once. 

But the moment sits in Klaus’ mind for the rest of the day. Their shoulders touching and hands together on the bed. He looks at his own hand, pale skin with a band-aid on his pinkie, a scrape on the knuckle of his thumb. Nothing much at all. 

Two days later and Klaus has successfully dodged their father for three whole hours. It's a new record. _Something something training something honing your skills blah blah blah_. Klaus wasn’t really listening. 

He has a plan though. He's making the best of the time he's got left (not much, considering Dad's blustering downstairs and the old Victorian lady at the end of the hall giving him the eye). 

He makes extra sure to knock this time ( _shave and a haircut_ ) and enters when someone calls, “Yeah?” on the other side.

When Klaus walks in, arms raised high above his head in greeting because that’s the sort of day it is, Diego is on his bed, head bent down over his lap. There’s a pencil in one hand. No attention is paid to Klaus or either of his raised arms.

It looks like math homework. Klaus makes a face. 

Without even looking up, Diego says, “It’s important. You could learn it too if you paid attention.” 

That’s rich from Diego, who fell asleep during history lessons yesterday. 

Instead of answering, Klaus plops down on the bed, arms back down around his waist. His shoulder knocks hard into Diego’s, pushing him sideways. 

Diego grunts, shoving him back without looking at him. The pencil in his hand is steady. The notebook reads something about angles and the curving of straight lines. 

Klaus can’t stop grinning. 

“Diego…”

“Mm.” 

“I know where Mom hid the extra brownies.” 

Diego looks up for the first time, blinking. The corner of his mouth pulls up to the side in a smile. 

“Yeah?” 

Within seconds they’ve snuck out into the hallway, eyes sweeping back and forth for parents or Pogo or spying siblings. The old woman is gone.

“All clear,” Diego whispers, leading the way. Klaus follows close behind.

He doesn't even think about it when he reaches for Diego’s hand. 

The resulting knife wound needs multiple stitches. Their mother’s face is patient when Klaus holds his bleeding arm up for her to inspect. 

Diego does apologize though, and even holds Klaus’ other hand while Mom works. Klaus counts it as a moral victory.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me @ kaqueershi on tumblr


End file.
